The long journey

By.Virginia Barchiesi ,Student and UNICEF Volunteer

Let’s stop, pause, and think of the people whose lives have to become a long journey throughout unknown lands, political events, and deaths.

People peacefully armed with resilience, hope, and some goods, witnessing their past lives: pictures of their sons taking their first steps, or daughters on the day of their marriage; a Nazir Kabbani poetry book; an old CD with the songs of Fayruz; a bunch of old blankets; and maybe some dollars to buy food any other day during the march.

In this humanity too often we can see children, the real victims of wars, walking by their parents, their bright eyes looking firmly forward, as a symbol of their tragedy, that doesn’t allow them to look backwards if they want to flee the hell they’re coming from.

These eyes so tender and deep are the future of this humanity, they are the witnesses of any war’s consequences. They will be forced to live far away from their people, their origins, and their histories. They will probably play football for the rest of their infancy in a refugee camp, they’ll become teenagers in exile – and as happens for Afghan refugees in Pakistan – they’ll marry, have children, and raise their children as uprooted people.

However for the rest of their lives, they will remain these uprooted children, who, with bright eyes looking straight forward, have captioned a frame of history. Their history as refugees and the so-similar but at the same time so personal history of all the people going with them, preceding them, and those coming after them.

A frame captioned with the intelligence and the tenderness of every child.

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